


oh how unreasonable

by wesawbears



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, obligatory feelings in the bathtub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesawbears/pseuds/wesawbears
Summary: Geralt should stop this before it starts. He shouldn't want things he can't have.In which Jaskier turns a lot of "shouldn'ts" into "absolutely shoulds".
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 241





	oh how unreasonable

The first time Geralt traveled with Jaskier, he hadn’t known what to make of the little bard. He was either impossibly brave, impossibly stupid, or a combination of the two. He gained a grudging respect for him, though, after he insisted on writing that song to boost Geralt’s reputation. He wasn’t vain enough to believe it held any truth, but Jaskier didn’t smell of fear and clearly wanted to be around him, so he allowed it for now. Surely, the whole thing was just a fluke and Jaskier would have his head turned soon enough by something or someone shiny and pretty before long. Geralt was neither shiny nor pretty, and the bard wasn’t suited for this long term.

Despite his constant complaining, though, Jaskier adjusted quickly to life on the road, quicker than Geralt had expected. WIth time, it was even...nice. To have someone to make the days on the road not run together as much, and someone who made inn stops a bit more frequent. His aching muscles appreciated the continued baths and while the oils the bard insisted on using were too strong for him, he would leave Geralt oils that were subtler, but relaxing. After long enough together, Jaskier even took to combing his hair and massaging the knots out of his shoulders. He didn’t know why he let him, only that at a certain point he was too tired to refuse.

A small part of him whispered that he shouldn’t be getting used to these luxuries. It would just make going back to his life worse once Jaskier finally saw sense and went on his merry way. Which he really should soon, before he got himself into trouble Geralt couldn’t get him out of. Or worse, trouble Geralt got him into. Geralt got by without him for decades, and he would continue to do so after he was gone. Better that the bard (not his, never his) leave heartbroken with a story than meet his end here than with his fragile human body broken, eyes lifeless. 

Still, not matter how much vitriol he threw his way, Jaskier remained unphased, his scent annoyingly free of any fear or even worry. So, he continued to follow and Geralt continued to try and not get attached. Sometimes, they would separate for a few weeks or months, Jaskier chasing a contract he couldn’t refuse, or Geralt needing to go after something alone. They had their spats, as was only natural with the two tempestuous tempers they possessed. They never parted on bad terms and Geralt told himself every time that this was the last time.

He never expected to actually find Jaskier again, truly. But sure enough, some time would go by and he would hear that familiar voice, smell honey and sea salt, and the bard would be there, as if he’d never left. It was one of these such times when things came to a head between them.

Geralt had just fought a leshen- nasty one at that- and the best he could hope for was coin enough for stew and a bed. He made his way into the inn to find it already occupied by his bard charming the crowd. Upon seeing Geralt, his face brightened, and the pace of his songs picked up as Geralt found a corner to eat and drink and watch from. He would never admit it to Jaskier (or anyone) but he felt something inside him unwind from watching the little bird flit about. He was content waiting, knowing Jaskier would come to him when he was finished.

After a bit, Jaskier bowed to his adoring crowd and made his way over to Geralt, his easy sway betraying his own eagerness, but only to Geralt’s keen eye.

“Geralt! You came just in time- I’ve really warmed this crowd up to you. I wish I had known what you were fighting, I could’ve come up with something- hmm. What is that?” He swiped a finger through some dirt on Geralt’s shoulder. 

Geralt “hmm”ed and had to clench his teeth against the unexpected tenderness, more than he deserved and less than he desired. “Leshen,” he answered simply.

Jaskier brushed his hand through some more dirt, even threading his fingers through a knot in Geralt’s hair. “And, knowing you, you probably were about to just fall into bed without even washing the...leshen off of you. You’re so fortunate to have run into me. Oh! I can tell you all about what I saw at court, I’m sure it was a faerie…”

“Faeries aren’t real.” That wasn’t technically true, but Geralt wasn’t about to tell him that. He just knew faeries were too smart to be around that many humans. Jaskier was far more likely to run into one on the road with Geralt, but he definitely wasn’t going to mention that either. Faeries were difficult to fight, and Geralt had no desire to kill a dying breed.

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and huffed. “You’re just grumpy because you haven’t had a proper bath in weeks. Come on, you lug.”

If any other witcher saw him like this, allowing a human to pull him about, he would be laughed at mercilessly. However, he let himself be drawn into a room and sat on the bed while Jaskier called up a bath. He was able to heat the water with Igni, and allowed himself a small groan of relief as the water worked over his muscles. He heard Jaskier chuckle as he prepared some oils he knew didn’t upset Geralt’s senses. He began washing his face and arms and was caught off guard by Jaskier’s calloused fingers digging into his shoulders.

Jaskier tsked. “All that tension. What is the witcher plan for when all your muscles atrophy from being hard as rocks?”

“That’s dramatic.”

“I don’t think so. This feels distinctly rock-like to me.” He pressed into a knot hard and Geralt groaned as it loosened.

“Are you just going to shove it into submission?” he snarled.

Anyone else would have cowered, but Jaskier just rolled his eyes. “If you wanted gentle, you could go find a whore.”

Geralt grunted in agreement. It was a fair point. He found that being around Jaskier lessened his desire to seek out company elsewhere, though, which was...odd, considering he wasn’t sleeping with the bard. In some ways, it seemed he’d received more touch from the bard than from any of the whores he’d sought out. 

He closed his eyes and let himself drift, focusing on the relaxation of his muscles instead of the confusion inside him. Sensing that his mind was elsewhere, Jaskier simply hummed as he worked. He moved after a bit to combing through Geralt’s hair, He said that he liked doing it, that it was calming. It was normally soothing for Geralt as well, but today it felt too intimate- dangerous. It was too close to what he wanted. He shouldn’t have been able to jump back into a routine so easily, shouldn’t crave the songbird’s touch as much as he did. His hands shouldn’t feel different than anyone else’s. He’d come to accept that Jaskier wasn’t going to run from him, but what of the dangers of being associated with a witcher? The target placed on his back, the exposure to creatures that could kill him? What of the thankless job that came with caring for something that wasn’t made for soft touches and sweet words?

“For all your grunts and hmms, you think more loudly than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“What am I thinking, then?”

Jaskier moved to the front of the tub and looked at Geralt, squinting. “Something grim and self loathing, which is unfair considering all the work I just put into making your back feel like butter.”

Geralt grunted. His back did feel better, better than it had in weeks. When, didn’t continue, Jaskier sighed and tried again.

“Geralt, come on. Give me something, some clue to what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Geralt pressed his mouth into a hard line and tried not to see Jaskier’s too blue eyes boring into him. He was so young. He hadn’t learned yet to keep his heart hidden. Maybe he never would. Geralt didn’t know which option he felt better about.

At last, he looked at him and sighed. “You make me want things I can’t have.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, looking exceedingly, infuriatingly fond. “And what can’t you have, dear witcher?” he asked. The only tell that he’s invested in this conversation was the nervous drumming of his fingers against the tub.

“This...you. Taking...care of me.”

“I would think that was my decision.”

Geralt exhaled. “You can’t want this.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes again. “Yes, yes, you’re exceedingly tortured and difficult to be around. Has it occurred to you that people aren’t lining up to be around me either?” Geralt’s about to protest when Jaskier continues, “For more than a night, I mean. Not that those nights aren’t lovely. But you, my wolf, are my longest standing engagement. Does that strike you as coincidence?”

“Hmm,” Geralt said simply and Jaskier scoffs as though he’s said something profound. He rested his chin on his elbows and looked at Geralt. “What do you want that you don’t already have?”

Geralt considered that. Before he can finish his thought, he moved forward to take Jaskier’s face in his wet hands and kissed him. Jaskier relaxed into it easily, though he was anything but a docile kisser, nipping at Geralt’s lips until he growled a bit.

At that, Jaskier pulled away, laughing. Geralt wants to lick the sound from his mouth, keep it safe inside him. “Was that so hard?”

Geralt hmphed and slumped back into the tub, splashing Jaskier a little. 

“Very mature. Come on, out of the tub with you, before you become a prune.”

Geralt stood, not bothering with modestly and Jaskier, as usual, didn’t look away. 

“You’re drying off before you kiss me again.”

Geralt grunted, but reached for a towel, though he couldn’t resist flicking a bit of water toward Jaskier.

“Hey! No! See if I give you anything after you’ve acted so rudely.”

Geralt smirked and saw Jaskier’s resolve turn to dust. “Dry off quickly,” he said and sauntered off, leaving Geralt mesmerized.

He wanted the bard and the bard wanted him. The rest could be figured out later.


End file.
